Birthday fun, birthdays done!!

Well, the weekend of birthdays has been and gone. Silvia's third was on Friday, kicked off with a great family dinner and present extravaganza plus VERY FANCY CAKE. Since for the time being Kurt is doomed to share some of his own festivities (his big day is the 7th, two days after Silvia's) with his as-yet youngest child, I splurged (and we're talking SPLURGED here, people) on a gourmet Black Forest cake from a local bakery. It's his favorite and no one else seemed to have any complaints.

We followed up the family shindig with a morning play party Saturday at Lil Biggs with a few of her favorite 2- and 3-year-old friends. It was a blast and guess what? More cake!! In the great tradition of my girls' parties, Silvia cried for about (at least) half the party, mostly from wanting to play with everything at the same time. I have to admit, despite some inconveniences, it's a great play place for kids with a bounce house, all kinds of video and token games and a big play area with dress-up, toys, climbing and a sandbox. We've got a cup of leftover tokens and I plan on spending a few snow days playing there in the near future.

For Kurt, his big present was a night off. He's been working like a madman lately, with nary a moment to catch his breath, much less sleep, eat or look out the window. The girls spent Saturday night at my mom's indulging in waffles for dinner and snuggling up together in the guest room's big bed for the night.

While they enjoyed the luxury of grandma's house, Kurt and I enjoyed the luxury of our own home-- all to ourselves. We had a wonderful dinner at our favorite restaurant, Edelweiss, and then bolted home to curl up in jammies in front of the big TV for a long-postponed dive into our neglected Netflix collection. We got to sleep until TEN IN THE MORNING, totally unheard of in this household. I mean, seriously, I think the last time I slept until 1o was when Anna was a newborn. We'd be up all night long with her tears and colic and then finally crash out around 7 A.M. just as Kurt left for work. So really, that probably doesn't even count.

We finished off the mini-vacation with a lazy breakfast of cappuccinos and croissants at La Baguette-- and then Kurt headed back down to his office to catch up on the work he'd missed while taking a birthday break. Still, he looked practically rested as he headed out this morning, even after staying up until 2 A.M. working, so I call the time off a complete success.

Now with our big February festivities behind us, all that's left to do is sort and purge some toys to make room for the new loot and then... enjoy the snow, the winter and each other!

P.S. I'm extra proud of Anna, too! She handled all Silvia's attention and gifts with grace and maturity, with the exception of one toy (a stuffed animal cat) that she really wants for her very own. But after 48 hours, Silvia's fascination with it has mostly waned and she even let Anna sleep with it last night. So that worked out, too.

Silvia's 3rd Birthday

It's in there!

So, for those of you who don't know, we're (SURPRISE!) having another baby. I'm due this summer, mid-July, though it's hard to pinpoint an accurate date since we're not totally sure when I got pregnant. I'm guessing more towards the end of the month. I'll leave out the gory details, but the moment of actual conception is a bit foggy since I was on the Pill at the time. Let that be a lesson to you, young readers! You know who you are.

It was a shock, for sure. Kurt and I took some time, like several months, to get used to the idea. There were some tears. But it's starting to settle in and each appointment we have to check up on things helps me settle down to the reality more and more.

Besides, yay! I get a new car. It may be a minivan, but I'm totally insisting on heated seats this time. As a mom of three (THREE! EEEK!), I think I deserve it.

Anywhoo... we had the 4 month check-up yesterday, and yup, there's definitely a baby in there! The midwife (I'm skipping the OB this time around. I figure this is my last chance to try something new) ran the Doppler across my belly and right away caught the strong beat of a heart that WAS NOT MINE. It's funny, but I never get used to that. There's something ALIVE in there! It still feels sort of like alien invasion. But, you know, in a good way.

Baby is healthy and so am I. As this is my third time around, all my symptoms and signs have popped up (get it? popped? haha!) much sooner. I'm bigger earlier, already having trouble sleeping and generally feeling a little slower on the uptake. Of course, that could be from chasing two little nuclear generators around all day.

I've decided that if we could only harness their power output somehow, we could save THOUSANDS off our electric bill. I'm working on it, but they don't really like all the electrodes I keep trying to stick to their heads.

So that's what's new around here, chez Schwartz. Soon we will be Five. I'll have to change the name of the blog. And that will be it, as our family planning will become... permanent following this child.

Kurt is SO excited for that. I promised to buy him an ice pack.

"And then it EXPLODED, Mom!"

It's not my fault. These things happen, just about everyone's done it at some point. The problem is, I happened to slip up whilst my jumpy 5-year-old daughter was sitting right in front of the... incident.

After much debate last night, the girls agreed to PB&J for dinner. I had tried for pizza and salad but it was no dice. The last dregs of the peanut butter were a little too cold and hard for spreading, so I popped the jar into the microwave for 15 seconds to soften it up.

Oops.

Turns out, a bit of the foil seal was still hanging onto the edge on the rim. The whole thing let off a LOUD static-like pop and flames shot up from the jar and filled the microwave. Did I mention it was loud?

I hit the roof in a Matrix-like spin and beat at the off button until everything instantly went back to quiet peanut butter peacefulness, though a tad smokey.

Anna however, started screaming, threw herself out of her chair and ran in blind hysterics out of the room, tripping over chairs and couches on her way to safety. Her terror set off Silvia (who I don't think even saw the event). I spent the next half hour on the couch with the girls velcro-ed to me, shrieking. As soon as I'd get Anna on the verge of calm, she'd say, "I want DAAAAAADDY to come home!!!", and then start wailing again. Kurt's on a business trip so the poor kid had to settle for mom to rescue her from the exploding peanut butter.

In case you feel I have not described this story in enough graphic detail or captured the complete horror that enveloped my daughter... just wait. Anna will be HAPPY to tell you about it. Every few minutes. For the rest of her life. Just in case you didn't understand the first time.

On the bright side, I'm hoping this will replace the story of how I forgot to buckle her car seat THREE YEARS AGO and she fell out and bruised her hips. I don't think I deserve to have both stories trotted out every few days. One example of how much I've failed her is plenty, don't you think?

And the peanut butter is fine. A little singed around the edges, but otherwise still quite tasty.

Early Riser

Yesterday both the girls teachers at preschool pulled me aside to say they were concerned. Seems Anna asked to lay down several times during the morning and Silvia was very quiet, shy and withdrawn all day. They didn't have fevers or seem sick, but the change in their temperments was enough to stand out.

It got me thinking. Anna's been WILLINGLY taking a two-hour nap with me in the afternoon while Silvia goes down. And Silvia's nap has been very deep, with nary a word of protest. They're still going to sleep at 8 P.M. as usual, so where was the disconnect?

Then I remembered that they've been getting up together in the morning, playing for a bit before coming to get Kurt and me. Looking back now, I can see that these morning meetings have been getting earlier and earlier. Yesterday I heard a door close loudly at 6 A.M. and when I investigated, I found the two of them sitting up in Anna's bed, playing with flashlights in the dark.

"Mama, Cici came into my room. AGAIN," Anna said with resignation.

Ah-HA!

So last night I informed the culprit that she was to leave Anna alone and when she woke up in the morning she could come lay down with me if she wanted to. Want to know what time she's been getting up?

4 A.M.

FOUR in the frickin' morning.

No wonder Anna's been in a stupor! Having a little whirlwind crawl in bed with you and start talking non-stop before the sun has even considered coming will take the mickey out of anyone!

While having a nearly-three-year-old in bed wasn't exactly restful for me, either, at least she stayed quiet and actually fell back asleep. Guess I'm not as entertaining as her big sister. But now that I've got her leaving Anna alone in the wee hours, I'm stuck with the task of getting her out of MY room.

Any ideas for getting her to sleep til 6? Besides drugging her?

Toot Toot

Silvia has been staying dry for naps lately and I always make a big deal about it to keep that train a-movin'. Today:

Me: "Wow! Cici, are you dry? Did you stay dry for your whole nap?"

Silvia: "Yeah, I did! There's just toots in my bed."

Hey, as long as I don't have to change the sheets, then toots are just fine with me!

Snow Day!

Birthday pictures

Yes, that's right. Kurt gave Anna a beginner's engineering set for her birthday. Kurt gets so excited for each project. Oh, and Anna really likes it, too.

And finally, just for old times sake... Anna at 7 months. Look at all that hair! (oops, I mean, look at all that scalp!) Cutie pie. That smile never changes.

Five

She's a big girl now. You can tell because (drum roll, please) Anna didn't cry at her birthday party! We got together with a handful of friends at a local play area last weekend and she had a blast. Even at the finale as we dragged everyone out of the bounce house and said goodbye, she didn't put up a fight.

Of course, she was really excited that I bought WAY too many cupcakes and we had to take them all home with us, too. That might have had something to do with it.

With five comes a lot of excitement for Anna. She's started reading, on her own. She got dozens of books for her birthday and is tearing through them with total abandon. Her first chapter book (which she reads TO me) is Junie B. Jones and The Stupid Smelly Bus. I think she mostly loves this because she gets to say 'stupid'. Believe me, there's a giggle every time. We also just started Charlotte's Web, which I am reading to her. After all, it's wonderful that she can do it herself, but you can't beat curling up together to sink into a story. I love it as much as she does.

Anna loves her workbooks, too. Her writing is really improving and she's starting to grasp the idea of money. I don't know if this is exactly a good thing, but we'll take it. Today we went to buy her a booster seat for the car (she's totally outgrown her car seat) and she wanted to pay for it with her little tub of random coins she's collected. You can't imagine the look of disappointment when I told her that wouldn't be enough!

Her check up went great, the expression on her pediatrician's face when he asked about reading was priceless. Anna, as always, giggled. She came in at 42 inches tall and 36 pounds, two inches up from last year. Somehow, even with the impending shots, she still thinks the doctor's office is AWESOME. I had to shush her a few times because she was laughing so loudly with Silvia that they were startling babies in the hallway.

I general, five and these months leading up to it, is wonderful. She's smart and happy and so inspiring. One of her favorite things to say is, "A long time ago, when I was four...".

I feel like it was a long time ago, too. I know it's beyond cliche, but time just slips by so fast, doesn't it?

A cut above the rest

Walking up into the playroom one afternoon this week, I noticed a dark blur on the carpet next to Anna's little coloring table. I hunkered down for a closer look and then groaned. I knew it would happen, it's practically a right of passage for all children, but still... ugh.

The blur was a sifted pile of c-shaped curls. Anna's curls. I guess safety scissors only protect fingers, not style. More than half my irritation was because I'd JUST taken the girls a week ago for haircuts and they'd both looked coiffed and adorable. It occurred to me that the whole day I'd been wondering at Anna's spiky hair but just assumed it was a bad case of bed head.

But no. She's cut herself some lovely wings right over her ears, a chunk along the back left and at least an inch off a top layer of bangs. When I called her in, she just smiled.

"Anna, did you cut your hair?"

"Mmmhmm...", delivered with a pleasant smile.

"You are NEVER supposed to cut your hair. I'm taking your scissors away until... until... until it all grows back!"

I know I can't really get mad at her, it's just hair and it's not nearly as bad as it could have been. Hell, when I was little my brother just about left me bald with his gentle ministrations. Which reminds me, that's another warning I need to pass along to my budding stylist.

"You are NEVER supposed to cut your sister's hair either!"

I'm sure that'll just put the idea in her head, of course. But what can you do? At least she cut her hair and not the curtains or the sheets or the electrical cords, right?

And it's winter. Hat season.

Big Girl Bed... how time flies

Silvia moved into a big girl bed this weekend (aka the toddler bed version of her crib). We were a little worried at first because she is so much more feisty than Anna was at that age. I figured we'd spend a week or more walking her back to her room in the middle of the night when she escaped.

But no, she loves it and she stays happily in bed until someone come to get her. She has a real blanket and her very own pillow and is just thrilled to pieces to be All Grown Up now. I'm a little misty, just because this is the final good-bye to the crib, once and for all. But it's so nice that she can get in and out and feels safe and comfy in her room. Remember all those months, years, trying to get her to sleep in her own room; night time hysterics, coming to bed with us at 3 A.M.? Those are (mostly) behind us.

(Truth be told, though, both girls have been having night terrors lately, leaving mom and dad groggy in the morning from midnight comforting. But that's another story for another day.)

Next thing you know, she's going to want her Big Girl Porsche.

Guess this means it's time to clean my room

While I was getting ready this morning, I noticed a disturbing amount of total quiet coming from the other side of the room. Anna and Silvia were playing by my bed and, as I walked over to see what was going on, I was met by a distressing sight. And gross, so gross.

They were both sitting there with pacifiers in their mouths that Anna had fished out from underneath the bed. Now, considering Anna hasn't used a binkie in years, Silvia never used one, and the ones under the bed were infant-size, those suckers had been entertaining the monsters under the bed for at least 4 years.

AT LEAST.

I let out a big "EEK! EWWW! YUCK!!!" and un-plugged the girls with a distinct popping sound. Then I marched them both to the bathroom for an extended date with their toothbrushes.

Probably I need to peek under the bed and see what else is there. Lord only knows what other relics of newborns past are lurking there.

Here's the one, I knew I'd seen it before... Anna, age 6 months.

Sisters

Anna's Owl

I went to pick Anna up at preschool on Monday and her teacher pulled me aside as soon as I walked in the door. Of course, my first instinct was, "Crap! Did she do something?", but of course that was unfair to Anna's place of supreme honor in her teacher's heart.

"You have to see something! Anna, go get it, where did you put it! Go get it! Oh, Megan, you won't believe this, the other teacher's and I just about cracked when we saw it."

Then Anna came running up, a coloring page in her hand. Turns out, they had been going over the letter 'O' that day. The assignment was to draw an owl in the designated spot. Shannon, Anna's teacher, had not yet put out a picture of an owl for them to reference. All the other kids scribbled different versions of smiley faces with legs when she noticed Anna hunched over in concentration at her seat. This is what she drew:

Clearly, she is destined to be the next Monet, Rembrandt and Lisa (my talented friend) wrapped up into one. Plus, how cool that she didn't need a picture to copy? Kurt and I have begun to use it as a truism for life.

"If Anna can draw an owl from just her imagination, then we can do XYZ, too." Just goes to show you, there's more to life than scribbles if you give it a little effort.

The Windy City and Uncle Val

Schwartz Roadtrip 2009

Last week we hit the road to drive out to Iowa to visit my brother John. The girls went nuts-- from running through the fields, checking out the ENORMOUS corn spiders and baby pigs to Uncle John "teaching" them the ceramic basics (aka, letting them play with clay in his living room), the farm was the best place they'd ever seen.

So when it came time to stuff ourselves back in the car and turn back to the mountains, we were understandably reluctant. Here's when the wild wind hit us, or more like the wild hair. With the adrenaline rush of a last minute change of plans, we turned the car towards Illinois and spent the rest of the week crashing at a friend's house and visiting my brother Val in Chicago. SO MUCH FUN.

To say we felt free doesn't describe it. Somehow cutting lose, dropping all obligations, deadlines and responsibilities just to do something FUN enervated the whole family in a way nothing else could. We got back yesterday after two days of marathon driving (and a million pit stops along the way, but more on that later) and home felt so nice. I personally am excited to get things back in order, do laundry, tidy up all our travel stuff and get groceries and meals planned for the week. I'm ready to take it all back up and that's saying a lot. I'm certain the laundry fervor will wear off in approximately 12 minutes, but in general real life just seems a lot nicer than in did 10 days ago.

As much as I feared our first family road trip and the potential for disaster, I am happy to say we'll be making this an annual event.

Uncle John's Farm

Uncle John's Farm. Uncle John's corn, house, field, clay, pigs and windchimes. Uncle John's school. As far as the girls are concerned, everything about Scattergood Friends School is all thanks to Uncle John. And for that... we send him our heartfelt and loving thanks.

"No TV? Are you kidding me, Mom?"

Selective amnesia and a reluctant experiment

I've been going back over all the old entries from when Anna was Silvia's age, looking both for references to potty training and terrible two's. Guess what? Anna potty-trained with nary a hitch from about 2 and half. By the time she was 3 it was an afterthought.

I'm looking forward to the afterthought part, but I have to admit that Silvia is doing really, really well. She's still having accidents, but it's been about two months now and the dry and clean days are totally outnumbering the drippy days. We can go out, run errands, see friends and generally live our lives. I carry a bag with a travel potty seat and a change of clothes everywhere, but I've only had to use the clean clothes a handful of times.

As for Terrible Two's, well. Silvia has it bad. The other night, Kurt and I talked about how she is SO much whinier than Anna was at this age, SO much more infuriating. But then I thought, really? Is she really? Or possibly are our memories decaying from child-induced-amnesia? Thus the blog re-hash.

And here's what I found. Anna WAS whiny, super whiny, oh so so so whiny. It drove me crazy, I yelled and had to put myself in time-outs. Then, as I absorbed all this revelation (that I experienced first-hand and have not a shred of memory to show for it), I came across two very interesting posts. Here and here.

As the girls got older and things got busier and hazier and generally just sucked into the vortex of time and space, Anna got back her shows. It only follows that Silvia is right along side her on the couch. When I need to make dinner or fold laundry (which somehow quadrupled in our lives upon Silvia's birth), or let's face it, just get them out of my face for a little bit, they watch TV. It's still not very much, just as with Anna in that first post from back in the day-- maybe 3 half-hour shows a day, tops, with the odd movie or two thrown in after dinner during the week.

I'm sitting here going, "Hmmm...". I know, I remember NOW, what a big difference it made when Anna got cut off from her drug of choice. I know she played more, and danced more and whined and cried LESS. Considering Silvia's behavior right now is almost a complete mirror to how Anna was then (screaming for her shows, telling what she wants to watch as we come down the stairs in the morning, freaking out every time I say no), the solution should be pretty clear.

Oh, but I hesitate. Because no TV helper with a 2-year-old and a baby is not the same as no TV helper with a 2 and almost 5-year-old. They are busy little people and demanding and loud and fill the house with their consciousness alone. As much as I love my kids, I really hate doing crafts and Candyland all day. Shows give me a break from that. I don't want to say that I NEED those breaks, but... maybe possibly I do?

So this experiment begins with a few qualms and disclaimers. I am not taking away Saturday Morning Cartoons. That's coffee time for Kurt and I and we look forward to it all week. I'm also going to leave open a Classical Baby option in the evenings (that's sort of like telling a kid they can have a nice bowl of applesauce instead of the gooey ice cream sundae to which they have become accustomed). Movie nights are fun family time and totally safe from the chopping block.

But the rest, I am sad to say, needs to go. Silvia is driving me wacko with her constant whining, crying and demanding. If there is even the smallest possibility unplugging her will help, I'd be a moron not to give it a try.

Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it. This time it's harder. This time, God help me... I'm going to have to do crafts.

Bikes, Horses and Poop

I'll start with the first last because, as we all know, it's best to get poop out of the way first. Silvia did not want to potty train. Do you hear me? NONONO. I tried, I really did, to get her at least comfortable with the idea, but after about a week she went into rock-solid denial and I was forced to retreat and regroup.

Then suddenly, two days ago she was all, "Hey! I want my panties. I will not wear anything but panties, don't come near me with those diapers or you will live to regret it!". At first I was thrilled. And then the reality of it sunk in-- specifically, into the carpet. She's aware, she knows when something is happening down below but, for the most part, she's not really participating in the whole Big Picture of the thing.

Yesterday we went through 5 pairs of panties, and one had to be thrown away after the aforementioned poop episode. I will not bore you (or traumatize you) with the details. Finally around 3 o'clock she condescended to wear a pull-up and save my aching back from scrubbing floors.

It hasn't totally been a loss, she is having some success and I am releived she's at least ready to start consciously trying, but all this is bringing back the reality that I HATE POTTY TRAINING. I have, quite literally, blocked out the entired process that we went through with Anna. I vaguely remember cleaning off the couch and sitting in the floor reading 7 books to her as she made her efforts, but that's about it. Hopefully, in a few months I will be able to block this period out with equal effiency.

Horses and bikes are much more pleasant to cover, so let's move on. About a month ago, I arrived at the girls' school to find that everyone had brought in their little bikes. Everyone, that is, except my kids who did not have a bike to boast of. After school, Anna told me with a gently wistful tone that, "All the kids rode their bikes down the street and had helmets and it was so fun!", and then... "I walked. I didn't have a bike so Miss Diane held my hand instead."

Oh, the heartache.

We went out that weekend and got them bikes and helmets and the rest is history. The happiness can not be explained but fortunately, I captured it all in pictures. Same goes for horses-- rocking horses. It's all just sisterly cuteness and needs not introduction.

Trip to Beulah with Renee and company

Beautiful

For some reason I can't paste anything into blogger, and since I have no desire to type in the html by hand, I'll just leave you this link and let you go ALL THE WAY OVER to another web page to look at some pictures from the 4th of July weekend. I know, it's a lot of work, but please bear with me during this time of Blogger trial.

As for the holiday weekend, we spent the actual 4th up at a friend's house in Monument to see the fireworks over Palmer Lake. It was nice, but the best part of the evening was watching the kids (all little girls) ran rampant through the house and dress up as fairies and princesses while collapsing into fits of giggles, as little girls are wont to do.

Well, that and the fact that one friend brought a whole container of homemade pineapple vodka. I couldn't drink much, I have no tolerance at all, but what I did have... yum! Now THAT is a holiday.

On the 5th we drove up to Breckenridge, one of our favorite retreats. It's about 2 hours away and the girls are usually pretty happy the whole trip, now that they've been conditioned to fall asleep once we hit the mountain passes. It was raining the whole time we were in the city proper but by the time we headed to Lake Dillon the sun had come out and the girls had a blast peppering the water with big handfuls of gravel. (I am sure all the people fishing loved us.)

Unfortunately, all the lake pictures are on Kurt's camera and I am, once again, having technical difficulties retrieving them. Look for it in a few days.

Breckenridge Pictures Link, redux

Elephant, Piggie and the Pigeon

"Come on, just once around the block! Tell you what, let's play drive the bus! I'll go first..."

The pigeon wants to drive, he really really does. And he tries his best, but Anna and Silvia always shout, at the top of their lungs, "NO! You cannot drive the bus!!"

"Is there still a bird on my head?" asks Elephant. "No", says Piggie. "Now there are two birds. They're in LOVE."

Anna counts the birds, counts the eggs, sympathizes with Elephant and loves the surprise ending (I won't ruin it for you). Silvia, of course, just dances around, putting birds on her head.

The point of this post (aside from shameless hinting that the girls would love the entire Mo Willems collection...), is that Anna is reading. All kids start memorizing familiar books around age two, it's part of the normal language development. These days, though, there is a difference.

She's reading. It's slow, she stumbles, but she's sounding out the words, putting together the sentences, jumping up and down when she figures it out and then moving on to the next page. The Mo Willems books are great because the stories are simple enough for her to read through almost totally on her own, but funny enough for her to want to know what happens next.

Of course, the memorization thing backfires on us, because after she's read through it a few times, she stops reading and starts reciting. That's cute, too, though. She'll settle Silvia down for a pretend nap (they love to play at naps, go figure), and then sit and "read" her a story she's learned.

I know she's at the reading age, now, according to all the Big Important Government Charts. A lot of kids start picking up the trick of it around 4 or 5 years old. I stopped paying attention to the age-appropriate developmental milestones when Anna didn't walk until she was 2. Most kids, whether they start doing something early or late, all end up in approximately the same place by about 5 years old. The cool thing to me isn't whether it's "time" for her to start reading but simply that she is. It's so crazy to see! She sits down, looks at jumbles of letters on a page and then-- magic! It makes sense! It makes her giggle!

Reading has always been a huge part of my life and to see Anna enter that world is leaving me in a whirl. Suddenly I'm filled up with all my favorite books from childhood, reviewing what will make good chapter books to start reading at night, getting all excited to talk about how cool Gone Away Lake is. Of course, she's years off from reading those kind of books, but still... it's starting and I'm so happy for her. Reading is some of the best fun I've had (does that make me boring?) and now she can start knowing that kind of fun, too!

Father's Day

Sunday was filled, absolutely bursting, with gorgeous and poignant Kodak moments. Kurt flying the kite with Anna, helping Silvia on her trike in the street, planting flowers, dancing with them both in the morning, and sitting on the porch in the early evening of a perfect day as the girls danced around. Perfect, perfect moments.

I did not have my camera.

Still, even without photographic evidence, all of our memories are filled up with that excellent day. Kurt's an amazing, engaged and doting father and you know what? The girls know it and delight in it. And so do I.

Happy Father's Day, sweetie. Next year I will take pictures. Promise. For the moment, these memories will have to do... can you guess which baby is Silvia and which is Anna?

Happy Birthday, John!

Today is Uncle John's 35th birthday! The girls, Kurt and I send out lots of love, bro! I hope it reaches you in time for your big day, in the form of scrumtrulescent chocolate cake. *smooch*

Opa's visit and girls finally getting their sunshine

Of course there are more pictures of the family visit-- but they are on someone else's camera. I'll post those when I finagle the download.

Pictures from Sacramento

And then mom cried

Today I finally had to admit defeat in the battle against Anna's hair. Someday she'll be old enough to tame and care for it herself, but right now the snarled and tangled cloud of frizz is just too much to handle. Every morning, afternoon and night we comb it out with water and within 5 minutes it's reverted to barbarian chic. She's been begging to go back to the "Haircut Store" and saying she wanted it short- so today I took her.



She barely noticed the procedure and giggled the whole way home, talking about Kurt's lawn work. I stared in the rear view mirror at her so much I nearly caused a traffic accident and fought back tears. There's just something so difficult about cutting off a little girl's hair! She had none for so long, was bald well past her first birthday, so it seems like we should have treasured every honey-colored curl. But the fact remains that the curls lasted an hour and then the rat nest settled in. Here she is now, a little lady-- with short, SHORT hair. She's both happy and oblivious. I'm struggling. Sigh...

Playdate pictures